


Oh the monster in the forest, I like him

by sheepwell, snackmon (sashimini_central)



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood and Violence, Domestic Fluff, Humor, M/M, Monsters, Plot Twists, Secrets, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepwell/pseuds/sheepwell, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashimini_central/pseuds/snackmon
Summary: Soobin finds a monster in the woods. Or does the monster find Soobin?
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39





	Oh the monster in the forest, I like him

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer:  
> this story is fictional and uses the TXT members like actors of a screenplay, please enjoy and do not take it seriously, thank you <3

Soobin puts the book onto the shelf, the first row from the bottom, as always, so that the younger children or even the more peculiar of his adult classmates can reach it on sleepless nights. 

It's "Of Monsters and Men", the only thing that was by his side when he was abandoned in this far-off village as a new-born baby. 

Everyone adores the book. It is worn out very lovingly so, the smell of the aged pages still lingering amidst the stains of sweat and hot chocolate. 

What the children and Soobin himself love about the book isn't the tales necessarily, it is the beautiful illustrations of differently horned monsters—some feathered, some with fur, some more human than others—depicted in splendid scenery as if they had neither worry nor macabre instincts to feed on people. 

The tales were splendid, too. For instance, it'd tell stories about an old yet strong female warrior retiring into a humble village, after having saved a monster baby in one of her final battles. She had killed countless innocent people mercilessly, no matter if monster or man, without faltering. Yet the cries of a peculiar monster baby buried between burning wood and ashes, the stars in its innocent eyes, touched her deepest core and she never wielded a sword ever again. 

The shaman, head of the village’s small magic academy, who had found and raised Soobin, had told him that the story was really peculiar, strange even—for they lived in a time where monsters were cruel beings that threatened the kingdom. The nameless author must've been even more peculiar, long executed, all the copies of their books burnt. Only the volume Soobin had remaining. 

Their village was at the very edge of the kingdom, so very hidden and humble that the propaganda against monsters didn't reach their ears well enough to scare them and keeping the book despite the tales it told became their pride and philosophy.

Still, Soobin remains afraid of monsters. Not of their appearance and raw strength, but for his own sake. You see, he finds monsters so bizarrely beautiful, so mysterious and enchanting that he fears upon meeting one, a potentially dangerous one, he could get everyone in danger by leaving it alive. But then again, Soobin knows that his classmates would be the first ones to scream in protest about leaving any monster alive.

Right, the academy. The village is actually quite big but certainly small enough that everyone knows each other. The academy is run by a shaman (who as a young student was in love with Beomgyu’s mother but was tragically rejected when Beomgyu’s much more handsome but definitely much weaker father had been saved by the mother in the Farwoods). Actually, the whole village is run by the shaman. She is like the heart of the village, old enough to continue the tradition of collecting orphans and lost people, yet young enough to be an inspiration to her students in many different ways. 

The village could afford to have such mysterious people among their numbers. The Farwoods have a thick mist that separates them from the judgemental eyes of the entire kingdom, but very safely so. For some, it smells like their favourite bread on early mornings, for some like their favourite cinnamon powdered hot chocolate during dark winter days, for some others like the rainstorm on summer evenings, for some the blooming cherry blossoms in early spring. 

Soobin, however, can’t even see the mist at all which he isn’t really sad about, for that is the reason he knows his way around the woods the best, to begin with. The roads are as clear as day for him, making it easy to spot the best fruits and nuts all year round. That’s probably why he’s most often on kitchen duty at his academy. Or rather, because he can’t say no when he’s being asked literally anything. One of the reasons being, he has always been a well-behaved and nice boy, but to be honest, Soobin always feels like he needs to make up for it. For what you ask? Well, the thing is, while Soobin is very well one of the village’s favourite boys (he’s 21 already, a whole man if you ask Soobin, but tell that to the old ladies at the market), he does not have even the slightest pinch of magic in any of his body parts despite their sudden ridiculous growth just last year. He is never pitied for it, never was, but he pities himself if he has to be honest, a tiny bit. After every dimpled smile he has as congratulations on the next magical advancement of his classmates, there’s also a slight pain in his chest. A little ache that longs for magical kinship. 

Soobin leaves the library, moving from one task to the next, to collect the last apples before autumn would make them tumble and rot. He doesn’t fear visiting the Farwoods short before dusk, after all, the mist is invisible to him. Today, however, some kind of mist seems to be visible to Soobin, maybe it’s a normal autumn mist, and (maybe because Soobin has zilch magic whatsoever) he still doesn’t feel threatened by it. Sometimes you don’t know if it’s stupidity or his pure heart that urges him to make decisions that would seem so bizarre or unsettling to others, because today’s a Friday and no-one would dare to visit the woods on Friday evenings, short before the private weekend in which everyone rarely steps outside of the village’s familiar paths in fear of the feral magic that swims in the air. 

Despite being a boarding school, the academy also has the weekend off. If something was to happen to Soobin, well...

But nothing like this crosses Soobin’s mind who actually sees the mist as a good omen (again pure of heart or dumb of ass? Maybe both). And yet again no thoughts stir up alarm when he starts singing his favourite melodies into the depth of the woods. It’s not like he could attract monsters, right? Right.

Soobin loves this season. When it’s not full autumn yet for the leaves to fall but autumn enough to paint them in all different hues of yellow and orange. It’s like camouflage for the last shy apples waiting to be picked for Soobin’s apple pie that always makes a comeback around this season. Soobin hopes that the shaman will be home by tomorrow, from her trip to the markets in the border villages of the kingdom proper where she always trades important supplies. “Important supplies” would indicate things like wool for early winter preparations, but Soobin’s mind is only thinking about cinnamon (the special ingredient for his apple pie) and his tongue peaks out a tiny bit out of habit at how hungry the thought is making him already. He wouldn’t be home soon, though, since the best apple trees grow deeper in the forest. 

Something in the bushes cracks and Soobin wouldn’t be Soobin if his first thought wasn’t “Rabbit?”. He follows the sound which leads him to a clearer path of oddly naked trees. Their leaves are fallen on the ground as if on that spot only a black hole beneath the damp earth sucked them in. Soobin not owning any magical abilities doesn’t mean that he’s blind to magic. He can see how the leaves shiver and try to hide something (protect something?) to the best of their abilities with their last breath before peak autumn would make them fall dead weightless without any purpose.

A yellow brighter than the autumn leaves catches his eye.

Soobin squints into the dim light of dusk between the trees. There is a lump there, a shape lying covered almost entirely by the leaves. When he brushes away a few leaves to inspect the unnaturally bright yellow bush, he almost cuts his finger on the sharp edges of… antlers? A gasp escapes his lips as he realizes what he’s looking at. The yellow, the inhumanely bright yellow, is the hair of someone unconscious. Someone…  _ a monster. _

A stone drops into his stomach then. Soobin can’t think of any reason an outsider, let alone a monster, would find their way so very deep into the Farwoods. The reason behind the naivety and safety of the villagers is that the mist is said to harbour a foul smell and bad intent towards monsterkind, to begin with.

The forest is very quiet, as if it’s holding its breath to see what Soobin will do. 

And Soobin wonders about the same thing. There’s still a far off birdsong in the air, so he decides it’s not quiet enough to deem the monster an instant threat just yet.

The monster is still breathing, their breath merely a weak puff of warm air every few seconds.

Even though they are passed out, Soobin thinks that they look  _ tired _ . At the end of all physical strength, starved thin and exhausted beyond all capabilities, even for monsters. And if this sounds like Soobin knows a lot about monsters: he doesn’t, he just guesses and trusts his guts. No-one in the village is an expert on monsters, they’re actually not even beginners.

Soobin hisses out a small breath of surprise when he spots the scars, some silver and thin, and others still crusted with dirt and dried blood. They seem to be everywhere.

And yet… 

And yet this monster is  _ mesmerising. _

Features sharp, antlers long and proud, hair so unnaturally coloured but it looks soft even among the leaves sticking to it.

This monster; it reminds Soobin of the illustrations from his book…

The night chill will descend upon them soon and Soobin fears anyone may freeze to death in the scraps of fabric this stranger wears. And so, the decision comes to him before his own racing thoughts can even catch up with it.

He’ll save them, carry them home, ensure they are protected from whatever chased them so far out into the mystic Farwoods.

Not once does Soobin remember that this is what he had feared; that he’d always be more likely to ignore the danger that everyone assumes monsters to be, and leave the monster alive instead.

It’s a struggle and Soobin curses under his breath (which isn’t even proper cursing if you were to ask literally anyone that wasn’t Soobin) as he wobbles his way downhill. He almost cries out of joy when the illuminated windows of the village start peeking through the trees. At least it’s so late into the evening, no-one would be out to ask him why he’s sweating buckets while carrying a passed out monster on his back.

The next five minutes to his humble little cabin pass in a daze. He barely manages to drag the monster inside, heart skipping a beat and a scream catching at the back of his throat when the long antlers knock into the top of the doorframe and nearly take them both down.

It is a whole other ordeal to put the monster into his bed and cover him up against the autumn chill and it leaves him so exhausted that by the time he has one of his spare sleeping mats rolled out next to the fireplace in the main room, he simply drops off into sleep and lets tomorrow-Soobin deal with his unexpected guest.

Except tomorrow-Soobin is still slightly clueless and baffled. And it only really dawns on him as he stands in the door to his bedroom, morning light streaming through the blinds, brown hair messy, and a still very much unconscious monster tucked into his bed, that he has no idea what he’s even supposed to do. He doesn’t even know what he expects or should expect when the monster wakes up. He’s actually even lucky that the monster didn’t wake at night and just swallowed him whole, but this option never crosses Soobin’s mind because if you ask him, sleeping lions are also incredibly cute.

Finding a starved and half-dying stranger in the woods is one thing, but taking them home and such stranger being a whole damn  _ monster  _ another— Soobin thinks eating breakfast first, before his empty stomach would come to stupid conlusions, sounds like the best choice right now.

With a cup of tea in his hands and feet tucked onto his chair it becomes a bit easier to think. In the end, there’s not much he can do but wait for the monster to wake up. Probably for the best that he prepares some easy-to-stomach food, after all he really does want to keep this monster alive and not substitute as a meal himself. Maybe he should be more worried about the threat of being eaten...

It doesn’t take long for Soobin to gather his basket and draw up a grocery list. He carefully peeks his head into the bedroom then. No sign of waking, only the soft huffs of sleep to be heard. Soobin wonders then, if monsters dream, and what a monster lost and alone in the forest could possibly dream about.

He’s clearly lost it now.

Nevertheless, Soobin gathers his clothes and sets out towards the town square with all its colourful market stalls. It’s beautiful today, no more mist in sight and the sun makes everything glimmer in red and gold. Even the people are oddly friendly today and Soobin is in a high mood, feels like he’s ready to tackle anything by the time he gets back to the cabin.

And then, like the crack of a lightning strike, the door flies clean off.

Soobin barely ducks out of the way awkwardly, dropping his basket full of newly bought groceries in a frenzy. He hits the ground, knees skinning open on the stones that lead up to his (formerly intact) front door and takes a mighty tumble into the lavender bushes.

Head spinning and pants utterly ruined it takes him a while to understand what’s really happening, but when his eyes catch on sunray yellow hair and the wood of the door stops its noisy slide a good ten feet down the path, it finally clicks.

They’re up. The monster is awake, though they still lean heavily against the door frame and pant away in panicked huffs.

“It’s alright,” Soobin scrambles to react and it earns him a vicious growl from the depths of the monster’s throat. “I’m not gonna hurt you! You must’ve been so shocked waking up in my cabin, but you’re really safe, I promise.”

It is then that those sharp eyes finally seem to focus on him, to really see him past the perceived danger. The monster sways on their feet dizzy and disoriented.

Soobin raises his hands in an appeasing gesture, fumbling his way out of the lavender bushes. “Can you understand me? I’m Soobin, I found you in the woods and—“

The words die on Soobin’s tongue when suddenly the pupils in those two-coloured eyes draw into thin slits.

“Shit,” the monster spits, raking a clawed hand through their greasy bangs. Soobin’s throat dries out in an instant. “Where am I even?“

“Uh, this village is east of Farwood Ledge. We—“

“How long have I been out?”

“I found you last evening and then—“

“Yeah? And did you immediately rat me out so the royal guard force will come to kill me soon or were you kind enough to give me a bit of a head start?” They scoff then, gnashing their teeth in what almost seems like a nervous habit, which would be endearing if Soobin didn’t immediately picture those fangs capable of ripping flesh from bone very easily.

“I gotta go.  _ Now. _ ” The monster sways and steps forward with a determined set to his shoulders and exhausted sweat on their pale forehead. 

Soobin only watches them from where he still crouches with disbelief bouncing through his head. “Guards? What guards? We don’t have any guards here. It hasn’t been long since I found you! You were collapsed and unconscious, you shouldn’t—“

And then the inevitable happens, Soobin watches those eyes (one red, one blue, how fascinating) roll back, and the monster falls face-first into the lavender bushes. Passed out once more.

Soobin is at their side in an instant, caution thrown into the wind. He grasps their shoulders, leaning down to that sharp face only to see it completely slack.

It takes him a while to untangle the horns and branches from each other. Still, the texture fascinates him, smoother than expected but still with noticeable sharp ridges. Soobin wonders if the monster sheds their antlers just like the deer in the forest do at the beginning of each year.

It’s an enormous effort to lift the loose body mass of the monster and Soobin questions how he even managed to drag them all the way home yesterday. It would be impressive if Soobin wasn’t panting like a worn-out race horse by the time he made it across the doorstep.

Monster guest securely tucked back into his covers, Soobin slides down onto the fur rug beside his bed and stares at his wooden ceiling while he wills his lungs to stop wheezing after that unforeseen workout.

“I wonder why you wanted to leave so fast, why you thought I was going to hand you over to some guards… What are you running from?” He asks the side of his mattress, obviously not expecting an answer.

Soobin pulls himself up on the corner of his nightstand (it’s just easier, he’s got a lot of height to cover before he stands upright) and shuffles over to the fireplace. There’s just no way he can lift his heavy wooden door back onto its hinges by himself, and the autumn breeze is getting chilly. So he simply stacks more logs onto the fire and hopes it’ll keep the small side room with his bed warm enough.

As he stares into the glow, the flames hold no answer for what he should do about this situation, don’t tell him if the monster in his bed is dangerous or not.

They are hunted, admitted so themselves, but the fire has no answer for Soobin whether it’s because they did something unspeakable or had something done to them. Certainly, Soobin already spotted the scars beneath their scrappy clothes, but the reasons elude him.

Soobin sighs as he pulls on the ripped fabric over his bloody knees and winces a bit, biting his puff lips that were swollen from the chill air and exhaustion. “I guess, it’s better to give them the benefit of the doubt right?” He finally arrives at his conclusion. “Oh, I better make some food first!”

Soobin’s kitchen is small, and granted, his cooking skills are limited to a week of different meals, to be repeated in order with every following Monday. But his food isn’t bad and he enjoys eating very much, enough to know where at the market to buy the really good ingredients.

He prepares broth from the chicken breast he picked up and adds the dried herbs he keeps in little clay pots on his shelf.

A good chicken and rice porridge ought to get every sick or exhausted soul back to their feet. Soobin hums as he stirs his pot and adds two eggs to boil just long enough for the yolk to stay liquid.

In time, the whole cabin fills with the savoury smell of a home-cooked meal and Soobin sings with a wistful voice;

_ Remember me to one who lives there _

_ She once was a true love of mine… _

The shuffle of footsteps escapes Soobin’s ears among the delicious bubbling of the porridge and sweet melodies of his own voice.

Suddenly and fully unexpected, a loud jingling noise pierces through the peaceful kitchen clatter and Soobin almost drops his ladle in shock.

He whirls around, hand pressed to his heart and a hysterical giggle slips through his lips as he comes face to face with a very worked up monster who has their antlers tangled in the strings that used to make up a stained glass wind-chime hanging from the ceiling.

“Oh,” Soobin says eloquently, covering his mouth with his hand, but it’s not like he can hide the gleeful crinkle of his eyes.

“I was trying to leave,” the monster tells him in an almost childish pout, trying to pull their horns out of that mess. Their pupils are sharp again and they look so, so exhausted.

“Alright, do you want me to help you out of—“

“No, I got it!” The monster growls. Interrupting Soobin just seems to be his thing, and the pulling and tugging on the wind-chime doesn’t do much either.

“I see,” Soobin relents and moves back into the kitchen. The food is almost done and he swears he can hear the grumbling of an empty stomach from behind him as soon as he lifts the pot lid.

“What’s that smell?”

“I’ve made chicken rice porridge for you. You can leave at any time, I mean, after you’ve destroyed my door I don’t think I could stop you if I tried. But you should at least eat first.”

Another jangle and the noise of a string snapping follows shortly after. Soobin glances over his shoulder to see the wind-chime still tangled into horns, but at least the monster isn’t attached to the ceiling anymore.

“There’s a small mirror by the door.”

Wordlessly, his unexpected guest shuffles their way over and begins the complicated task of picking stray pieces of stained glass and ribbon out of their antlers.

“My name is Soobin,” he tries as he spoons the boiled eggs out of his pot. “Do you have a name?”

A frustrated mumble is his answer and then the monster almost whines with an unexpected pout, “I’m not telling you.”

Soobin can’t help but giggle. “Fair enough, I guess. I’m sure you have your reason. Though it will be awkward cause I’ve just been referring to you as _ the monster _ in my head.” He places a bowl filled to the brim with porridge on the table and begins washing up a cup to use for tea. He hasn’t done his dishes in a while, sue him, it’s just a lot of dishes by now and he’s been putting it off like the mess he is.

By the time the ceramic is filled with steaming tea and Soobin sits at the wooden dining table, the monster is also done, holding the utterly ruined wind-chime in his hands.

“You should sit and eat,” Soobin puts on his most charming dimpled smile. It would worry him to let the monster go with an empty stomach and another fainting spell imminent. They look drawn and starved, now that Soobin sees them standing upright

Again, teeth are bared at him. “Why should I even trust you?”

“I carried you back into my cabin. Twice.”

“As if!”

“That’s a bit mean, I really did carry you… You slept in my bed, too, for long enough that I could have harmed you then!” Soobin picks up the spoon and holds it out with the handle towards the monster. “Let me at least take proper care of you, as a kind gesture from a stranger whose bed you slept in last night.”

The monster squints at him, those pupils nothing but thin slits in his eyes again. Those eyes—Soobin knows you shouldn’t make eye contact with something that can kill you, but he finds it impossible to look away, one iris red and the other blue, peering at him with an intensity that makes him freeze in his seat.

“It smells…” the monster finally says.

“Smells? Smells good?” Soobin asks back, but whatever the monster mutters is overshadowed by the screech of chair legs on wooden floor boards.

The monster takes the spoon from him and places it in the steaming bowl with a delicacy to their movements that Soobin hadn’t expected. They then stare down at the food with that same intensity they had given Soobin earlier.

“It’s alright— I mean, the food isn’t poisoned or anything, look.” Soobin takes a spoon-full of the porridge and immediately scalds his tongue in his hurry to prove his innocence.

He hisses with tears in his eyes and cups a hand before his mouth as the monster stares with bewilderment. “It’s just hot you might wanna blow on it first!”

They tilt their horned head then and with a flick of their fingers a breeze of wind sweeps over the surface of the porridge, blowing steam into Soobin’s face and tousling his hair.

“You know  _ magic!”  _ He can’t help but exclaim and the other’s pointed ears twitch at the sudden excitement in his voice.

“Yes? Many humans know magic, too, I thought?”

“I can’t learn it!” Soobin’s bottom lip juts out in a pout and he rests his cheek in a palm. “I even attend an academy of magic but in my 21 years I haven’t managed a single spell. Magic comes naturally to your kind, right?”

The monster has picked up the bowl now, forgoing the spoon entirely and tenderly nipping at the rim, while never losing sight of Soobin. Soobin feels oddly judged by those fox-like eyes. 

However, as soon as the monster’s tongue gets a first taste of rice and chicken, their eyes widen and they begin to eat the food, chicken and vegetable chunks and all, at a pace that makes Soobin seriously wonder if they even chew at all.

Soobin’s earlier inquiry about magic seems all but forgotten, but he can’t help but feel fond to see his food appreciated as if it’s the best thing his guest has ever eaten.

“It’s Yeonjun,” the monster suddenly mumbles into their bowl before he greedily continues slurping all of the porridge down.

“What?” Soobin blinks, unexpectedly drawn from the blank space of mind he had been watching the monster with.

The empty bowl thunks down onto the table.

“My name! So you don’t just call me  _ monster. _ I’m not some beast, I’m a man. Wouldn’t call you just  _ human _ either,  _ Soobin _ .” They— _ he, Yeonjun _ —growls back before stuffing a whole bun of bread into his mouth.

Soobin watches in fascination as those sharp teeth sink easily into the baked crust as if it was about as hard as cotton-candy.

“Oh, wow. I thought unlocking the information about your name would take me a few more days.” Soobin teases just a little.

“A few more days? I’m gonna be long gone by then!”

A sudden confidence sparks in Soobin’s heart. “Stay with me?”

“With  _ you _ ? Why should I??” The monster, no, Yeonjun furrows his eyebrows.

Soobin blushes like an idiot. “I— I mean. Stay here, where you are safe. Until you recover at least. That’s, that’s what I meant, yeah. I mean, not that the village isn’t safe it’s just— you’re here so, why not just. Stay here.” He smiles awkwardly and this time around his dimples catch Yeonjun’s full attention.


End file.
